


Birthday Boy

by creepymura



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Birthday Sex, Crossdressing, Latex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-04 07:01:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10985829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creepymura/pseuds/creepymura
Summary: Murdoc does something special to celebrate Stu's birthday this year.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> part 1 of 2. second person, 2D's pov

It had been a while since he’d gotten you a present.

Over the seven years of separation you’d had from the others, you had learned to forget about your birthday, for the most part anyway. You were forgetful anyway, even before the trauma and therapy sessions, so the twenty-third day of May was just another date to forget for you, no matter how much it mattered to other people.

When you did remember, you were quiet about it, didn’t make a fuss, didn’t demand any undeserved attention, just because you’d managed to live for another year. Though it was nice to sometimes look at forums and social media posts dedicated to celebrating for you, leaving sweet little messages in your inbox though you’d never read them, finding all the best pictures of you and making them into a ‘Happy Birthday’ post for everyone to enjoy. It was sweet, reminded you why not celebrating yourself didn’t bother you that much. After all, you usually only remembered when someone else reminded you, half way through the day, and then you’d justify getting another pint or another pack of cigarettes, because after all, it was your birthday. 

You deserved it.

But the others never really paid that much attention to it, no. Because they knew you. They knew you didn’t want any sort of hype or anything like that. Russel got food from your favourite take-away for dinner, and Noodle found a new zombie movie from Sweden to give to you. You’d asked her where she’d found a DVD in this day and age, and she giggled and ruffled your hair, said you were starting to show your age. 

So you had dinner, and that was something nice. You made happy, upbeat conversation, and Russel asked you how you were going to enjoy your last year of being thirty, to which you replied that you were probably just going to live that year exactly the way you lived the last one, which made him laugh through a mouthful of relatively expensive thai food.

Murdoc wasn't one to be sentimental though, so he didn't partake in any of this family-style bonding, which was to be expected. And you didn't mind all that much, even took pleasure in having the company of Russel and Noodle after so many promo tours and videos you had to do with Murdoc to promote the new album. It was nice, something different, and almost refreshing.

But when Noodle tapped out to spend the night with Ace in her flat across town and Russel had to sleep early for his meds to kick in properly, you were left alone to go to your room, with your laptop and your newly acquired zombie movie in tow, just waiting for whatever your remaining band member had planned.

You're half way into your film, a clump of leftover rice noodles dangling and dripping sauce down your chin when he practically threw himself into your room (and he didn't knock, because he never knocked.) He had something tucked underneath his arm, a half full wine glass in his left hand and he was mumbling to himself. When you paused your film and yanked your headphones off, he was singing 'Happy Birthday', though with less than savoury lyrics replacing some of the verses.

_ “Happy birthday to Stu, _

_ You were my favourite screw. _

_ Though you're old and in your thirties, _

_ I still wanna bang you!” _

Giggling away to himself, he dropped the package into your lap and sat down at the foot of your bed. Leaning back against the wall with a dopey expression on his face as he waited for you to say something. 

You raised an eyebrow at him, assuming he was finished, before closing your laptop and giving the package a curious little prod.

"Y'not gonna open it?" Murdoc slurred, sitting up in an effort to seem more presentable.

"Depends what it is." You said bluntly, still poking at it. "Normally you don't bother with presents. What makes this year any different eht?" 

Even if you were being a bit harsh on him, the present was wrapped beautifully. Red tissue paper and real, genuine silk, black ribbon (not the paper tat) tied into an elegant bow. You wondered for half a second if Murdoc had wrapped it himself, but you guessed he'd probably bought something expensive and asked for that kind of gift wrapping. But that did mean it was something expensive, something nice perhaps. Pretty out of character for him, yes, but you weren’t one to ignore an expensive gift.

"Aw, come on, mate!" He stuttered, edging his way up on the bed, closer to you. "We're good friends now, aren't we? All the baggage is behind us, 'n' such." Still drinking from his glass, he grabbed at you and dragged you towards him, wrapping an arm around your tense shoulders. "You and me, we're like. Proper best friends now, that's what all the interviews are sayin' about us. And I-I-" He interrupted himself by burping, which you grimaced at. "I wanted to get ya somefin' real special! Cus we're best mates now!"

"Are you drunk?" You asked, pulling away from him to frown at him properly.

"I'm wine drunk, love, it's very different." He insisted, gesturing as dramatically as ever, though he was still drinking. “But my level of intoxication has nothing to do with your present now, does it?”

To be fair on him, even if he was drunk, he was talking incredibly coherent, albeit with the odd stumble and stutter here and there. But you didn't entirely trust the little mystery package, nor did you trust the way he so feverishly watched your fingers stroking over the silky ribbons and soft paper.

"What is it then?" You asked him, trying to feel for any clues through the tissue paper. You heard the crinkle of plastic through it, though it was soft and malleable, easily warped. Maybe a t-shirt or something.

"Noooo, I can't tell ya that!" Murdoc exclaimed loudly, eyes wide like a cartoon. "Then it's not a surprise, and what's the point of a birthday without a few surprises, yeah?"

"Surprises from you don't usually work out in my favour, mate." You mumbled, though you weren't entirely sure he was listening when he was still eagerly gulping at his wine glass.

"Alright, alright, alright! If you open it, and you hate it, you can just give it back to me and I'll return it!" He said, with an excited grin. "Even though I know that you're gonna love it, I'll do that for you. How that's sound?"

You looked at him for a couple of seconds, trying to find any shift in his expression that might have given him away, but found nothing, nothing you could be mad at anyway. And you were getting more and more curious about what the present might have been, if he had actually gotten something right in the nearly twenty years that you had known him.

So you gave in and pulled the black ribbon bow loose, tugged it off of the wrapped plastic, and tore away the tissue paper, letting the scraps fall into your lap, occasionally glancing up to see how Murdoc was reacting to all of this, though he stayed just as ecstatic through the whole process.

Now you barely ever had any expectations when it came to Murdoc, since he practically made it his job to challenge them whenever he could. He never wanted to be predictable or easily read, and would make a conscious effort to be a nuisance and fuck  up plans just to keep people guessing. 

You were used to it. In a way, you expected the unexpected with him.

But nothing could have made you expect what was in the plastic packaging underneath that layer of tissue paper.

You recognized the shine of the black latex, you always would after being so well acquainted with it over the years. When you opened the plastic packaging and shook out whatever was inside it, a heavily belted skirt with shiny silver buckles tumbled into your lap first, accompanied by what looked like a low cut camisole style top, with similar buckles at the back. A pair of white stockings stayed put at the bottom of it, only finally shifting when you gave it a firm shake, and a matching pair of knickers curled around them, finishing off the set. 

Just looking at the items in your lap made your face flush red hot, spreading down your neck quickly as you looked back up at Murdoc, glaring at him, wordlessly demanding an explanation from him.

"And you call me unsentimental." He said, matching your glare with a dirty grin, clearly misunderstanding your anger.

"And what the fuck is that supposed to mean, exactly?" You near shouted at him, though he didn't seem to react that badly to your anger.

"Well, see, I remembered all that weird porn that ya liked to watch, yeah?" He started, and continued even when your face went even redder (if that was at all possible.) "And I had a little think to myself like 'Hm, what have me and 'Dents never really had the chance t'do before'?" Leaning back against the head of the bed with you, resting an affectionate hand on your thigh as he drained his glass. "Now, obviously this is a difficult question because at this point, what haven't we done together. So I went onto your old laptop, looked at your bookmarks- oh, don't look at me like that, you didn't even password protect the thing!" Ignoring your outrage to set his glass down at the side of your bed. "And I find this video, yeah, and it's labelled with hearts and stars and shite like that, very cute. So I click on it and low and be-fucking-hold, I see a bird in skin tight latex, ridin' this mouthy bloke's dick with a girl's tit in her mouth. Honestly, mate, dunno where you find that kind of shit."

You pressed your face into your hands, cringing inwardly just hearing the description of the video, trying to justify the horrendous porn choices of 2010 to yourself, while trying not to pay any attention to how Murdoc was looking at you all of a sudden.

"So." He continued, clearly not recognizing how awkward the atmosphere he created suddenly was. "I thought we could do something similar with Cyborg." Looking up at the ceiling, grinning to himself, like he was so proud. "Admittedly, he ain't got any tits t'suck, but I think we can make do."

You were silent, for maybe a minute, just needing the silence to take in everything he had said. Held onto the heavy latex skirt, just to give yourself a kind of grounding when you could barely believe anything around you was actually happening.

"Your present to me, on my thirty-ninth birthday.” You starting, pausing to sit up properly and look at him, shoving your laptop to the side. “Is having the same weird, fucked up sex with your me-shaped fuckdoll that I used to do every night, just now inspired by a seven year old porn video that I barely even remember?" You glared at him then, anger finally setting into you after being lenient with him for such a long time. “Are you actually stupid?”

Murdoc just looked at you with a slightly raised eyebrow as you ranted at him, before tucking his hands behind his head and glancing away, almost sheepishly, trying not to let your words get to him.

"Well, since ya put it like that." He mumbled, still not looking at you. "But, I mean, I cancelled a session with my domme to get that stuff for you so. Ya know." Sniffing, scratching at his nose idly. “Would be nice to get somethin’ other than a scolding in return. If you were a bit more grateful.”

"Shit, y'didn't tell me you had cancelled a nightly visit to your dominatrix to get such a warm, heartfelt present for me." You drawled, still glaring at him, a deliberate sarcastic twang added to your voice just so it was obvious. "Gosh, how sweet of you." 

"Alright, alright, I get it." He said, voice suddenly irritated as he quickly stood up from your mattress, crossing your room in an antsy pace, arms crossed over his chest. 

"Ya know, I really don't think you do sometimes." You said sharply, still sifting through the clothes in your lap. As mad as you were at him, they were really nice and well made. You wondered if he'd had them custom made for you, explaining the wrapping and why they would have been so costly (since you knew how much his sessions with his domme were, though she was a lovely lady who absolutely deserved it for putting up with his ass.) 

"I just thought...you know, we barely do anything these days without you bein' under." He didn't have his back to you anymore, but he wasn't looking at you. "And, I dunno. I wanted to have Stuart back, ya know? If I wanted to constantly fuck a sex doll, I'd have stuck with the robot."

Somehow his words meant a little less when he couldn't look at you, though you were somewhat sympathetic towards his plight. Being hypnotised was fun, because it gave you less to remember the mornings after, gave you less to regret because you could only ever remember the good feelings, the smiles and the excitement that came from having so little in your head. But you hadn't particularly considered what Murdoc must have felt like, fucking someone, something, that would barely remember any of it the morning after.

You half wondered if that's what all the dominatrix shit was about.

If that was his only chance at being was someone who felt human.

With those thoughts floating around your head, you stood up from your mattress, and wandered over to where he was standing idly, eyeing him up and down, smiling somewhat to yourself as he stepped backwards from you, only stopping when he was against the wall and you had him pinned without laying a hand on him.

You crossed your arms and brought your face close to his, the smug smile on your face unwavering as you watched all the subtle little changes in his expression give away every thought he must have been having from just the illusion of being under you.

"We're doin' this my way or no way, understand." You said, firmly, and he nodded quickly, his pointed tongue darting out to nervously lick his lips. "Not t'say I don't like your choices, must have set you back a bit." You continued, gesturing with a nod back to the pile of clothes on your bed. He just nodded again, but didn't say anything. 

You didn't mind. 

"None of this is goin' to be your choice, Murdoc." You continued, the firmness back to your voice, one hand resting almost affectionately on your chest, and you didn't want to admit how satisfying it was to see him finally flinch for you. "Since taking' me subservient isn't good enough anymore, I'll be the opposite. Just for you, yeah? The fact I'm letting you use that dirty fuckdoll should make you feel lucky. Lucky I’m in such a good mood with you, understand me?"

"Yes-"

"Master." You said quickly, interrupting him. Gripping at his jumper with a harsh fist, bringing his face so close to yours that your lips were almost touching. "Call me master."

"Yes, master." He said softly, gently, and just hearing him so submissive for you made you let out a long, satisfied sigh and made the ache in your trousers twinge even more. You weren’t used to this yet, but just hearing him convinced you that maybe you could get used to it fairly quickly. 

Once you'd gotten a hold on yourself, you let go of his jumper and stepped away, allowing him to move again.

"Go get your fuckdoll then. We'll see if I'm still in the mood to fuck you when you get back, eh?" You teased, and he just nodded, quickly scurrying out of the door which had coincidentally been left ajar throughout this entire ordeal. 

As soon as he was gone, you let out a small giggle that you had been holding back throughout that entire experience, from disbelief that you'd even said that sort of stuff, and from disbelief that he'd paid attention to all of it without any complaints. Wondering why Murdoc paid for a service like that from a stranger when he could clearly get it from you the whole time. 

Though you didn't hang around thinking for long, because you hardly looked the part of a hard working dominatrix yet, and some of those belts on that skirt looked fiddly as fuck.

But it was going to be a good birthday.

You just knew it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> second person, 2D's pov

It shouldn't have excited you so much to have him underneath you. 

To have him look at you like the God he so often referred to you as, so many years ago. 

To have his admiration again, even if in this context, you had to force it out of him and demand that he give it to you.

Not like you minded. Gave you a chance to exercise your more sadistic characteristics, since they had only seemed to grow in the last couple of years. You needed an outlet.

You had him gagged, of course, that was the first step. To keep him quiet, despite the lack of conversation the two of you had been having as soon as he saw you decked out in the outfit he had so affectionately chosen for you. The way his jaw dropped made you laugh and the look on his face when he saw you would have made you want to kiss him, had this been any other circumstance. 

But it was a punishment, if it was anything. A way for you to get your own back, so to speak, after putting up with years of his ruthless sadism.

So you'd show off your ruthless side too.

You'd chosen a classic, a thick, metal ring gag between his pointed teeth, his trailing lazy tongue drooling around the metal, down his chin. You teased him for being so messy while his Cyborg listened to your commands, and your's only. Couldn't understand him when his words were so warped. 

You just sat back lazily though, and watched Cyborg truss him up with harsher bondage, tight leather and chain cuffs, bindings that would restrict his movements even more. Not before being stripped naked, of course, so you'd have plenty of time to admire his bare body twitch and tremble underneath hands that were essentially your own, so it was even easier to pretend. 

He still constantly looked at you though, seeking some sort of validation, a confirmation that you liked it, you were enjoying it in anyway. Still looking for the vaguest hint of consent, even when the tables were turned.

You matched his gaze with the most apathetic expression you could muster, but slowly tucked up the hem of the latex skirt, flashing him the front of the white panties he'd gotten you. The latex showed no tell-tale signs of your arousal, thankfully. Had they been cotton or anything like you were used to, you would have been soaked through by now, but the shiny, stiff fabric allowed you to be vague. But you still pressed your fingers against the slight fold in the material, teasing over your erect clit, just for him to see.

He whined softly as he watched you, body practically urging forward, barely paying any attention to how Cyborg was tightening his binds behind his back. So desperate for you. He's malleable like this, easily manipulated. Too invested in watching your enjoyment to seek any for himself.

You liked it more than you'd have cared to admit.

"You liking this then, pet?" You asked, still teasing over your clit. The sensation felt dull enough that it didn't give you too strong a reaction, nothing he could pick up on. "Tell me, how exactly should I fulfil everything your dominatrix does for you, hm?" You only stopped touching yourself to crawl over to him, slowly, perching in front of him on your knees. He's still looking at your knickers though. "You're so private these days. Barely hear a peep about these sessions of yours." Stroking over his drooling tongue, watching his face flush dark and him struggle against his binds (though this did nothing to deter Cyborg from its task of restricting him even more.)

You chuckled softly to yourself, stroking over his jaw, down his neck, across his chest. Already hyper sensitive and aware of your every move, even the barely there touches were making him whine and tremble. 

"Are you embarrassed?" You continued, your voice getting softer and more soothing, stroking an affectionate thumb over the barbel through his nipple, making him flinch. "Don't tell me nothin' anymore. You must get up to some shockin' stuff if ya can't even tell me about it, eh?"

You're teasing him now, mostly because you wanted some sort of reaction from him. Maybe something angry or irritated, just to remind you that he was still himself. 

And maybe you would have gotten those reactions before. 

But maybe it's the slight intoxication, or his own guilt, so built up that it was stopping his normally fuming anger, he just nodded, saying something incomprehensible around his gag, just leading to more drool down his chin. 

Made you smile, for some reason.

"S'pose I have a job on me, trying to fill her shoes then, hm?" You crooned, moving closer to him, kneeling up so you could wrap your arms around his neck. Press your body up against his so he could feel the cool latex against his burning skin. "Don't worry." Kissing his cheek sweetly. "I'm sure I can manage."

You affectionately stroked through his hair as you looked over his shoulder at Cyborg, who had finished with the binds you'd given it and was waiting for your next instruction, perched up on it's knees, a cruel mockery of your own subservient nature for him some twenty years ago.

"Oi, Cyborg." You said, alerting the machine out of it's man-made trance (or, more likely, it's screensaver). "Make yourself useful and go find where Murdoc keeps his sex toys in his bedroom, yeah? Probably in a wardrobe or a cupboard or something."

Cyborg took a few seconds to register your command, the screen-like eyes glowing behind it's heavy fringe being the only thing that made it clear the machine was still on, but it eventually nodded it's head and got to it's feet, calmly leaving your room to find the room of it's original master. 

Leaving the two of you alone.

"Dunno why you still keep that thing." You mused softly, hands trailing down his back. "What does it do that I can't do, hm?" Raking your short, bitten fingernails over his skin, making him throw his head back in a wheezing moan as his body trembled even more against your's. "Especially when I can fuck you just as good as it can. I can make you feel like this."

"I can do everything you want, if you let me."

"I'll even make you mine. Then no-one else can have you."

"That's fair, isn't it?"

-

Playing with him, teasing him just to be cruel was fun.

Did nothing for him, of course, drove him crazy when you did it too much, naturally. Did everything for you. Or maybe it did do something for him, you weren't quite sure how any of this worked. You just liked the way he looked when he was desperate for it. The way he couldn't help but drool for it, whimper for it, look and sound even more dumb than he had before.

Not like you had much time to admire that look before a muzzle was the next step, buckled tight over the gag, under his jaw and around his head by Cyborg. But you didn't mind it. The thick leather concealed even more parts of him that made him human. You could have almost envisioned how sweet he might have looked with a proper pet-play muzzle, ears and all, similar to things you'd had in the past. 

Would certainly help in making him look the part, anyway.

Making him look like even more a pet than before.

You're still unsure what sadistic part of you liked warping people in toys so far away from humanity, it was barely worth considering them human at all, but they never seemed to mind it much, so you didn't put too much thought into it. 

A cock ring was also put in place, securely at the base of his dick, making the most of the shit that Cyborg could find in his room. Just touching him made his dick ache even more, and you could feel it twitch as you stretched the rubber down his length, making him groan with such simple touches. 

You slowly traced a fingertip over his weeping slit, over the piercing already glistening with pre-cum and the fucking howl he lets out made it completely worth it. 

Body already shuddering and his hips already jutting for attention, all you wanted to do was keep touching and teasing all his most sensitive areas, put him through absolute agony but the most intense pleasure he's ever been through in his life. 

Put him through all the things he always did to you.

He's already breathing heavily against his gag, such desperate little gasps and huffs of air from the softest of touches. 

You wanted to see how he might have reacted to something even stronger. 

You stopped your attention on him suddenly, looking over to where Cyborg was once again kneeling, waiting for your instruction, lost in it's own little world. 

"Cyborg." You said softly, draping an affectionate arm around Murdoc's shoulders so you could make proper contact with his machine. "Come here for a sec, yeah?" Beckoning it closer with a crooked finger. 

Cyborg glanced at you, it's head slightly cocked, before it did as it was told and crawled over to where you and Murdoc were sat. 

 

Despite how creeped out you might have been, even you had to admit that looking at the automaton, it was incredibly pretty. Almost a work of art, in fact.

It looked just like how you had looked when Murdoc had first gotten so well acquainted with you. When you were barely twenty years old, still so fresh faced and eager eyed. It still had your dark, void-like eyes, and the gap in your teeth, still had your imperfections that made you you, but there wasn't a wrinkle or freckle in sight. No scars on the thighs, no stretch marks on the hips.

Just smooth white plastic skin, shiny purple hair, and a body you were quite frankly glad you didn't still have considering the upkeep you had to go through for it. 

Almost as if he'd plucked you out of time itself, preserved you right when you were your best, kept you all for himself to use as he wanted. His own personal Stuart Pot sex-doll.

Just looking at the machine almost made you resent him that much more.

But of course you didn't say that. Didn't want to ruin the moment.

You just hid whatever scowl you felt crawling on your face by gripping the purple plastic hair of your younger self, and dragging it into a fierce, angry, open mouthed kiss. 

Like you were reclaiming yourself again, so Murdoc would never truly have you the way he wanted you again.

Cyborg immediately kissed back, because it didn't have any idea what else to do, tangling it's fingers in your own hair, lightened with an age that it would never have. Just thinking about that fact made you kiss harder, just to get rid of any more of your aggressive inadequacies before it built up too much and you took it out on someone who could actually feel pain.

Eventually, your hands moved away from Murdoc and onto Cyborg, gripping at it's skinny hip, it's perky little ass, forcing it's delicately light body into your lap, just to give yourself some advantage in positioning. Cyborg just moaned happily and eagerly against your lips, gripping at your skirt already riding up around your thighs, rutting it's hips against your leg, as if it was trying to grind itself against you and give itself some stimulation, though you knew this was just a program setting and that it had no need for stimulation to begin with.

Eyes casually darting over to Murdoc, just to see his reaction to all of this, amused as all hell when you saw that he couldn't stop staring at the two of you in such a charged embrace. 

Eventually, you got bored of just kissing and you forced your hand down the front of Cyborg's tight shorts, feeling the cooling wetness already lubing up it's hole. It groaned, almost obediently, wrenching itself away from the hard kiss to grip onto you, pressing it's face up against your shoulder. Most have been a gesture that Murdoc liked enough to include in the machine's original programming, since there was no need in it trying to quiet itself when it's tinny whines barely had any volume to them. 

Dominating Cyborg was satisfying, yes, but it was by no means difficult. The machine practically handed it's submission to you, that being the thing it was originally built for. But it helped you warm up, in a weird way that would have probably been strange to tell a therapist. Allowed you to get a taste of what domination felt like. Allowed you to get some anger out on something before you took the next step.

"Cyborg. I have something very important for you to do. So listen to me carefully, okay?" You whispered, mouth barely inches away from Cyborg's ear as you kept stroking over it's weeping hole, drinking in its mechanical gasps and whimpers that came, despite the lack of a functioning voice box. "I want you to go behind your master, and fuck him for me, yeah? Just for me t'see." Glancing at Murdoc with a hidden smirk, relishing in how he was suddenly so quiet as he kept watching curiously, waiting for what you'd say next. "I'm sure you want that as much as I do, Cyborg, so I'm gonna let you do it. Cus I'm so nice." Nipping at its ear, you tugged down the shorts to allow yourself more room to shove two fingers deep inside it's hole, making it groan even more as it listened to your commands. "I want you to fuck your master until he's screaming, understand me? Until he can't even stand it anymore. And you're not going to stop until I tell you. I want you to be ruthless on him."

Cyborg nodded quickly, almost frantically, as soon as it registered your instructions. When you eventually stopped touching it, it quickly moved behind Murdoc, just as you had told it, to find the appropriate attachment for the job, amongst Murdoc's vast collection of weird looking sex toys.

Speaking of, his face had dropped as soon as you looked at him again, a smug smile playing on your lips, and his previous desperation quickly melted into a hard, irritated glare. His anger just made you laugh.

"What's wrong with you, eh? Mad I'm not doin' it myself?" You teased, sitting back in your previous position, your skirt already hitched up and your knickers pulled down. "I said before, pet, you don't get a choice in this." You stroked over your clit idly as you watched Cyborg get into position, it's proper attachment in place." Oh, but I do, babe. I get all the say in this." Groaning softly as you felt your clit twitch under your touch, harden slightly, already feeling how wet your hole was just from looking "Maybe I'll let you eat me out after. If you're a good pet for me."

Murdoc didn't have the chance to try and word a cheeky response before Cyborg was pressing itself deep inside of him, clearly ready much quicker than he had anticipated, forcing out a long, surprised groan in place of any kind of actual argument. 

You couldn't even begin to imagine how agonisingly good the relief of finally getting some sort of attention must have been for him. You could guess, almost, by the way Cyborg pressed his body forward, his head down against the floorboards, holding onto his arm bindings, and the way he didn't struggle or resist in anyway. Just whimpered as his machine relentlessly thrusted in and out of him, allowing himself to be used by the very thing he so often used for this exact purpose. 

You didn't know why that thought alone aroused you.

Your latex panties were off, around your ankle at this point, and you were already pressing two fingers  inside yourself, just watching in a deep, sadistic pleasure as he was treated so ruthlessly. You stretched your leg out, resting the sole of your latex-clad foot against his head and forcing his body down even more, making the positioning even better for Cyborg. He didn't even try and struggle underneath you.

"Ain't that lovely." You said to yourself, breathlessly. "You look so perfect underneath my feet, pet." You're practically mumbling at this point, all of your mental energy put into making yourself feel good. Quickly turning your focus onto your clit over your hole, pinching and rubbing it as a means to tease yourself, draw out your inevitable orgasm a little longer, make your minute dick feel that much more harder. "Lookin' just how all pretty little pups should, right, Mudz? At the feet of their masters, where they belong." 

The defeated whimper you got out of him was all you needed to hear to drive you even more wild, make you moan so loudly, you have to bite your knuckle just to not wake up anyone else in the house. 

Now, you weren't a sadist by any means, and you're still not. You weren't taking pleasure from any sort of painful aspects you might have had to the scene, nor were you taking pleasure in the idea of causing Murdoc pain.

But that didn't mean you didn't like seeing him under your feet, seeing him grovel and look so helpless and desperate by your hand, or at the very least, your instruction. That didn't mean you didn't like teasing him and making him blush or get embarrassed.

At this point, the sheer power rush it gave you were almost as satisfying as the sexual thrill.

He looked up at you desperately, whimpering like he's waiting for something from you that you had no intention of giving to him. You liked that look, and baiting him by touching yourself even more, making your hole slick with pre-cum and your dick hard makes him stare even more, like he was so desperate it was killing him.

Cyborg continued with his frantic pace, barely giving Murdoc any time for a break or any kind of breathing room. So many intense feelings all at once would have made anybody overwhelmed, you could only guess what it was doing to him.

"You're so pretty like this, Murdoc." You said, softly, grinding your foot down against his head, so you knew it hurt. "Would be nice t'have you like this all the time, wouldn't it? Keep you as my pet for a bit longer." You drawled out a chuckle as you tilted your head back against the wall, driving your fingers deeper, harder, quicker inside of yourself, biting down on your lip just to retain some sort of composure. "I know I'd like that. Couldn't do anything bad t'me then, could ya?" Your voice was a worn out, sleepy sounding mumble at that point, hoped to yourself that he couldn't hear you, couldn't hear your weird, fucked up form of therapy, and you wouldn't have to admit how much this was actually starting to settle your frantic mind. 

You didn't want to think about how this might have been helping.

So you just kept watching. 

Watching as your younger self ruthlessly fucked the man he had looked up to so much, like some petty form of revenge. Doing everything you couldn't do when you still looked like that, because you were too weak to do it, too subservient, too scared of what the consequences of being alone again might have been like. 

Suddenly this scene is all about him again, all about Murdoc, like always.

Because you could never have anything without overthinking it and inevitably ruining it.

But you still watched.

And you still came just the same when it was all over, just the way that he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i should note, the 'Cyborg' is part of an elaborate au i made on my blog about murdoc creating a cyborg 2D instead of a cyborg noodle. honestly it's just my excuse for weird threesome, clone sex because i'm still into clone fucking
> 
> whipstickagocock.tumblr.com  
> ray x

**Author's Note:**

> *swinging from a vodka bottle* i don't have to explain shit to you people   
> take my weird porn and run you crazy animals
> 
> whipstickagocock.tumblr.com  
> ray x


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